


Headwounds

by Naughty_Yorick



Series: Taagnus Week 2019 [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blood, Flirting, M/M, Tending Wounds, basically fluff, flirting instead of talking about feelings, headwounds, its tender n shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 04:23:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Naughty_Yorick
Summary: Magnus gets himself injured during a raid on a bandit hideout…but they’ve left their healer behind. Written for Taagnus week on tumblr for the prompt "Tending wounds".
Relationships: Magnus Burnsides/Taako
Series: Taagnus Week 2019 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1544320
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49
Collections: The Taagnus Week Collection





	Headwounds

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. Y'all may recognise this. I've decided (in my infinite wisdom) to split my prompts for Taagnus week into separate fics as they get really wordy the longer the week goes on. Sorry for these two duplicates!

CRASH.

“Ah,  _ fuck." _

Taako turns away from the bag of gold he’s counting. “What have you-  _ shit." _

Magnus smiles sheepishly at him, blood seeping from somewhere just above his hairline and running down his face in neat little rivulets.

“What the  _ fuck, _ dude?”

“Turns out we didn’t disarm all the traps.”

“I fuckin' _swear_…" 

Taako quickly shovels the gold back into the bag, throws it into his satchel and stands up to get a better look at Magnus. He is, somehow, still cheery, despite the stream of blood now trickling over his eyebrow, threatening to blind him.

"What did you  _ do?" _

“I figured I’d search the place one last time before we left, just in case we’d missed, like, a clue or something.”

“And you, what, hit yourself over the head with your own axe?”

“No, I opened that chest,” he gestures with his hand, vaguely, “then and something just… got me." 

"Just _ got you?"_

“Yeah!”

Taako holds his face in his hands and groans. “Okay, sit your butt down –  _ not over there _ – right, good.”

He starts to rifle through his satchel, searching for bandages. What he finds, instead, is a not insubstantial amount of gold, a variety of semi-precious gemstones, a few empty potion bottles and his canteen.

“You got a healing kit on you, big guy?" 

Magnus blinks at him, a little unsteadily. Taako abandons his bag and wanders over, squatting in front of him. He clicks his fingers in front of his face, and Magnus winces. 

"Yo, you in there Mango?" 

"Uh…”

“For  _ Pan’s  _ sake…”

He stands again, then moves around to Magnus’ back and opens the pack slung across his back.

“If there’s anything gross or dangerous in here you gotta tell me now, okay?”

“Nothin’ dangerous. Maybe gross?” Magnus giggles.

“Right, thanks, that’s really helpful." 

He reaches in, uncertainly, and begins to shuffle through Magnus’ belongings. There’s a lot of junk in Magnus’ pack – dirty clothes, bits of garbage, questionably old sandwiches, but no healing kit – not even any bandages or potions. 

"I thought you carried potions on you, dude?”

“We used ‘em.”

Taako groans. Of course – there was that scuffle in the bar in the last town, and then that night a few days back where they’d tried to figure out what happened if you mixed a bunch of potions together.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to do this old-school, then.” He pulls out the least disgusting tunic he can find, closes the pack and rolls his sleeves up. “This is why we gotta bring Merle with us on these sorts of things.”

“Merle said he didn’t wanna come.” Magnus is more talking to himself than Taako at this point, dabbing at the blood now spreading down his cheek with a confused expression.

“Well,  _ yeah, _ ” Taako grips his wrist and pulls it down, away from the blood, “But next time we bring him.”

Merle was, in fact, back at the inn. When Magnus had rushed in, excited to tell them about the gang of bandits he’d overheard discussing their latest haul, Taako was ready to get out there and start blasting, but Merle wasn’t having any of it. They’d left him propping up the bar with enough gold to keep him in mead, flirting with a druidic dwarf woman. Truthfully, Taako hadn’t minded heading out, just the two of them. There was something… comforting about hanging around with the human. Familiar. He made him laugh in a way he tried not to think about.

Merle’s dubious healing skills would have come in useful now, though. Taako tries to push back Magnus’ hair to get a better look at the injury, but the blood is thick and clotting together, making it impossible to see.

He sighs and grabs his canteen. “Hold still.”

“What’re yo—" 

He upends the bottle over Magnus head, drenching him. Magnus splutters. "What the fuck!”

“I gotta see what’s going on here…”

He presses the tunic onto where he assumes the blood is coming from, trying to wipe away as much as he can. He spots the wound – a gash across his head, long but not too deep. 

“Well  _ shit. _ How’re you feeling?”

Magnus sniffs. “Dizzy.”

“Super.” His canteen now empty, he reaches around and unhooks Magnus’ from his belt and hands it to him. “Drink this –  _ slowly.  _ Just sip it, okay?”

Magnus does as he’s told as Taako sits down heavily on the floor opposite him, the bloodied tunic still in his hands. He leans forwards as Magnus drinks and tries to wipe off the worst of the blood from his face, Magnus eyeing him carefully.

“Can’t you just… magic me?”

“What?”

“You’re a wizard. Yeah? So… you can heal it?”

“Nah, buddy, I can’t.” He thinks for a moment. “Look, I can’t fix the  _ cut, _ but I might be able to do something about the concussion…”

Magnus looks even more confused. “I’m not  _ concuss …  concoo _ _… _I’m fine!”

“What’s your name?”

Magnus considers this for a moment. “Mmm…”

“Good start.”

“Mah…Mangus… Burns… Brown…”

“Less good. What’s my name?”

“Um…”

“Okay, big guy, I’m gonna try something. I need you to hold this…” he places the tunic in Magnus’ free hand, “…right here.” He presses it to the cut, pushing Magnus’ hand down, showing him where to hold it. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He grins, a little lopsidedly.

Taako sighs, then reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out the mini spellbook he carries around with him. He flicks through the pages, looking for something he can use.

“Right…” Got it. It’s an easy restoration spell, one he’s done countless times before. Usually for simple repairs or, if he’s feeling lazy, a quick way to give himself a little burst of energy. He channels the spell, pressing two fingers against Magnus’ forehead.

“Ready?”

Magnus nods, staring cross-eyed at Taako’s fingers.

“Good." 

He feels the tingle of the spell fizzle up his arm and through his fingertips, into Magnus. A brief, sparkling light zips around his head before fading away. Taako lowers his arm, cautiously.

"…Magnus?" 

Magnus blinks, his eyes refocusing.

"What’s my name, big boy?”

He squints at him, thinking. “Tee… Tah…” Then this face lights up. “Taako! From TeeVee!”

Taako slumps in relief with a sigh. “Good to have you back. How’s the head?”

It’s as if Magnus hasn’t even realised he was injured. He pulls away the tunic from his head and frowns at the blood. 

“Oh. Right.” He presses the fabric back to the wound with a wince. "How come you can fix my brain but not, ya know, that?”

“I’m  _ sorry, _ are my  _ brilliant magical abilities  _ not enough for you?”

“I just meant—”

“Yeah, yeah,  _ sure." _ He grabs the tunic from Magnus and presses it onto the still-bleeding cut, perhaps a little too harshly, eliciting a gasp from Magnus.

“Ah – Son of a  _ bitch-" _ He mutters, instinctively flinching back.

“Hey, fuck you; I’m doing my best here.”

“Fuck me? Fuck  _ you!" _

They stare at each other for a moment. The blood is still threatening to trickle into Magnus’ eye. Taako rolls his eyes, then smiles as he pushes Magnus’ hair back again, his fingertips gently pressing into his scalp. It’s  _ impossible  _ to stay mad with him. 

“You couldn’t  _ handle  _ this, darling.” It’s a quip; a throwaway line, but he doesn’t notice the way Magnus freezes beneath his hands, the stifled little breath he takes. He’s close to him, now – his touch delicate. Magnus’ skin is warm, despite the chill in the cave. 

“I think I could.”

Taako pauses, the ruined tunic hovering above the cut. There’s a lurch in his stomach – something akin to panic. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Magnus continues. “Actually, you kno-”

“I think the bleeding’s stopped.” Taako cuts Magnus off before he has a chance to finish his sentence.

“…Oh." 

"I mean, you’re still all…” He waves his hand in the direction of Magnus’ blood-stained face, his nose wrinkling in disgust. 

“Oh. Right, ah…” Magnus goes to take the tunic from Taako, but he’s already leant in, is already dabbing at his face with the still-damp fabric. He twists it in his hands, trying to mop up the blood up rather than just spread it around, concentrating, avoiding Magnus’ gaze. 

They sit like that for a while, and soon the blood is mostly cleaned away, Magnus’ face stained slightly pink. Taako’s wiping up the last of it – little streams that have run down his face, down his neck – with one hand tucked behind Magnus’ head, pressed at the nape of his neck, keeping him still.

“Taako…”

He doesn’t respond.

_ "Taako." _

“I think we’re done here.”

He goes to move away, but Magnus reaches up and lays his hand over his, trapping it in place at the back of his neck. It’s not a forceful movement – Taako knows, of course, that if he pulled away that Magnus would let him. But his hand is warm, and slightly sweaty, and when he finally looks at him his eyes are wide and hopeful. 

“It was just a joke.” It pains him to say it, pains him to see the way Mangus’ face changes for just a fraction of a second, the way there’s a brief glimpse of sadness quickly replaced with his usual joviality. 

Magnus lets him go, dropping his hand back to his side, breaking his gaze. 

But Taako keeps his hand there - holds it to the base of Magnus’ skull - lets his fingers twist through his damp, dark hair.

He lets himself smile, sadly. “You’re concussed.”

Magnus looks back at him, reaches down and pulls the blood-stained tunic out of his hand. He takes Taako’s hand, twining their fingers together.

“Nah,” he says, leaning forwards, pressing their foreheads together, “You fixed me, remember?”


End file.
